Letras
Aye, aye, yeah, lil’ bitty bit
Yessir, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, aye
Came up, aye, ain’t goin down
Barretta, aye, watch out for my sound
Guns up, and your hands up now
Tryna run up, we gon’ lay you down
Choppa in the heat, gon’ give you a heat stroke
Ball out baby, but I ain’t on the heat though
I’m still in Miami, cocaine and sweet flows
I’m off the shits, legit, mi casa with my ‘migos
Count up racks, get it up like I’m the Bucks
I’m in Milwaukee, brought some twins, they super sluts
They comin over, Imma rearrange they guts
And I had to dip in my Tonka truck
In the back that bitch is loaded up
It’s filled with weapons and hella drugs
These bad bitches, they know what’s up
When we pull up in our Tonka trucks
My Tonka truck, aye, it’s loaded up, aye
This bitch inside, she came with her model friend tryna fuck
I’m here with my homie Nay, we ‘bout to ball out
We at your homie’s crib, we take it all, then we fall out
Act like poker baby, I ain’t no 21
I got me a choppa and it’s loaded boy, it’s a heavy gun
It comes with a laser beam, it might make you done
It might make you lean, leave you in a lake of blood
Aye, adios, vamonos, my bitch like “okay”
We take the dough up out the safe then roll out of the bank
Everyday get paid, the money’s on its way
I be gettin’ cash everyday, I be gettin’ racks every day
I be gettin’ ass everyday, I be smokin’ gas on the plane
If you ask, I can’t complain
I’ll roll a joint out on the stage
I pop the trunk the Tonka truck
You outta luck, you gettin' sprayed
Got your face down on the pavement
Got your brains out on display
And your name up on a grave
I don’t need no loan
My bank account in my name has got commas long
When I walk in they know my name
They like what’s he on?
He smell like that gas, that's propane, that’s my cologne
Pull up with deposits, I get the cash straight out
Walk up in the building like who’s gunna stop me now?
Tonka trucks is on the road
You can hear the engine loud
When we pull up in your hood
Everyone starts to look around
Duckin’ down to the ground, aye
Bustdown, Rollie
Bustdown, AP, but they don’t know me
Buss down just me and my homies
Buss down, got us running from the police
In Tonka Trucks
In the back that bitch is loaded up
It’s filled with weapons and hella drugs
These bad bitches, they know what’s up
When we pull up in our Tonka trucks
Now I’m rollin, I ain’t off the Molly
I’m off Bacardi, you see me at a party
I might go crazy, I might go gnarly
You ain’t my baby, I need a Barbie
I need a baddie with a fatty
She call me daddy, I ain’t your Papi,
I’m up like caffeine tho
Tonka truck is overloaded
So if you drop it low
You gotta know, I’m bouta blow